


Starstruck

by orphan_account



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Anyways, M/M, Sharing a Bed, THEIR BAND NAME IS THE SHAGOHOD, being a punk ass bitch, eva is beautiful and gay as always, ocelots in a band... snake is a bartender and ex military and soon to be teacher, okay i tagged bb as naked snake just bc its mgs3 ages So, this fic is complete!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 15:46:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11211189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The Shagohod's first gig is just a small thing at a local bar, nothing big. Eva and Ocelot make friends with one of the bartenders, John- or Snake- and suddenly it's a big thing for them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is like my first Real multi chapter fic i cant believe i fucking finished it what
> 
> anyways, they are gay and in love and eva is a lesbian but knows that guys like her Have a Good Day

“Nice place,” Eva said, shrugging her bass guitar out of the black case. She clipped the strap and stood underneath the soft evening lighting of the old building. Flags were hung on the walls next to photos and an array of posters, different times, different bands, people, places. The bar was a simple ‘L’ shape, the corner going out of sight, dragging the hardwood floor and lowered workspace around. Despite the stage being small, there was enough room to move off of it while playing, to dance around and meet new people. Ocelot looked up from his seat on the stool.

“Yeah, I guess.” he said, “Pretty empty, though.”

“Eh, don’t be nervous, it’s only 7- the show doesn’t start until 9.” She patted him on the shoulder, watching as he took in their surroundings too, although a bit less impressed.

Ocelot shook her hand off and frowned at Eva, who was staring off to the side of the room, away from the stage.. He followed her gaze as she nudged him in the head with her elbow, “Hot dude at 2 o’clock, Adam.” she wolf whistled, “And he’s got an eyepatch.”

Behind the bar stood a man, leaning his hip against the backwall. He had big arms and a well developed beard and, as Eva pointed out, an eyepatch. He was also reading a book the size of a brick and sipping from a water bottle. “He’s a little hairy.”

Eva sputtered, “Hairy! Oh my God. You want me to get his number for you?”

He groaned, spinning the stool away, “Absolutely not.”

She rolled her eyes and walked over to the bar, a hundred-mile grin growing. Ocelot sat, trying to tune his guitar by ear, forcing himself to focus on it, despite hearing exactly what Eva was saying to the poor man.

“Hi, I’m Eva, I’m the bassist for The Shagohod, how are you?”

The man looked up from his book, “John- good.”

“ _ John _ , wow, anyone call you Jack?”

“Ah,” he laughed, a rumble, Ocelot tried not to look up, “Just my mother.”

Eva caught his nametag, “Whose ‘Snake’ then?”

He looked almost embarrassed, “Oh, it’s something the bar does, nicknames. It’s out there.”

“Out there? Then you won’t believe me when I say my buddy back there, the guitarist, only responds when you call him ‘Ocelot’.”

“Ocelot, like the cat?” Snake said, impressed, hands on his hips. Ocelot looked up at the sound of his name, causing Eva to snicker and wave him over. He stared at her, then back down at their setup, then back up, catching Snake’s glance. Face red, Ocelot got up and walked over to the bar.

“Well, Adamska, this is Snake, Snake, this is Adamska.”

“Don’t call me that.” He bit at Eva.

Snake shook his hand with a smile. “Guitarist?”

“And lead singer.”

“That’s a lie.” Eva said, draping an arm around his shoulder. “He sings for all our angsty shit songs I do the real ones.”

Ocelot could feel his neck on fire, and knew Eva’s arm was feeling the heat from it too. But Snake and Eva were chatting, oblivious or deliberately ignoring him, and Snake’s nose scrunched up when he laughed. Ocelot looked away, heart beating a little faster than normal. They had gotten here pretty damn early for such a small set. When he turned back to their conversation, Eva was writing her phone number on a napkin, Snake writing his on another one. Ocelot wanted to die. 

“Looks like you’ve got customers now,” Eva said, sitting up a little bit. Snake nodded and took care of his job.

“Good luck, Eva, Ocelot.” 

“Thanks, Snake.” Eva said, swinging off the chair and landing with a bounce. Up on the stage, she hooked her laptop into fifty different cables, each connected to their own web of wires, and waved at the people finally gathering for their show. This quick evening show, Ocelot watched Eva, this was their first gig. He had figured there wouldn’t be a crowd, but what they had was a little lackluster, and it was almost nine now. That wouldn’t affect his performance, he promised himself. And, at the very least, they had a guaranteed good humored audience behind the bar.

“Ready?” Eva asked.

“Yeah.” Ocelot grinned.

 

The lights in the bar turned on as the two packed up, brightening the scene. Snake wandered up to their set, stuffing away a rag in his apron that he had wiped his hands with. “Quite a show.” He said, looking at their equipment.

“You think?” Eva asked.

He nodded, “Yeah, it was nice to work with live music. I liked the first song a lot, the bass was very- crunchy?”

“Crunchy!” She cried, “He gets me, Adam!” Eva shook Ocelot’s shoulder shoulder with disbelief.

“And the vocals were pretty good.”

“Pretty good.” Ocelot muttered.

“But the guitar solo was the best.” Ocelot looked down at the floor, the small burst of annoyance immediately replaced with shock. 

“I was inspired by uh-” was it embarrassing to say Bowie? “Ronson’s solo in Moonage Daydream, Bowie, you know. He just had this energy, like he wasn’t really playing, not with his hands. I mean, it's all a little out of our genre, but- it’s- well, we’re still pretty new, so I don’t want to limit us.” He gulped a breath.

Snake nodded, seemingly impressed.

“And yet he still won’t let me glue glitter to his face.” Eva sighed gaining a frown from Ocelot. She had, in fact, insisted the day before that they dress like a glam rock band. Ocelot seriously considered it before realizing they weren’t popular enough to pull that off.

“I could see that.” Snake said, appraising his face, making him nervous. There were two other bartenders, both packing up for the night. One waved at the other and headed out, her footsteps the only sound in the building. Eva broke the quiet.

“Hey, Snake, you wouldn’t mind carrying the amp for us? It’s the last thing.”

He nodded his head and picked it up like it was a piece of styrofoam, following them out the back door to where Ocelot’s truck was parked, equipment piled in. He slid in the frame and shut the bed door. The sky was a cloudy, ice-cold typical November midnight, and Snake walking back into the bar made Ocelot want to jump. “Wait!” Eva yelped

Snake turned.

“Thanks.” she smiled, rubbing her hands together for warmth.

“Of course. Play here again sometime, alright?” he looked so warm and soft, the yellow green light of the neon in the bar blurring his edges, moonlight in his eyes. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

“Night.”

Ocelot fell asleep on the ride home, Eva humming along with the radio, excitement worn down to contentment. “We are coming back, right?” Ocelot mumbled, woken up as Eva pulled into their parking spot outside the apartments.

“Got it bad?” She said with a smile, not like her sly ones, but her happy ones, sitting in the still truck.

Ocelot rested his head on his shoulder, elbow in the window, “Maybe.” then again, softer, “Maybe.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ocelot gets shitfaced, then almost pulls a knife on the dude he likes: the novel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was my favorite out of all three. i wrote it in one sitting, but went over it a few times and i Think Its Good

He had been humming their music all week, every week since he had heard The Shagohod for the first time. They had come back every few Saturdays for awhile now, but the same songs they had played originally were now permanently drilled into his head. He had caught himself in the shower, at the grocery store, while cleaning glasses after the crowd had died down at work. Snake had to admit, it was a lot quieter without the two, and a lot less interesting. Eva’s number made him consider calling every time he scrolled down his contacts to call someone. But he didn’t know them other than a few quick conversations, so it’d be out of place anyways; it’d be wrong to call, so he held up his promise: he hoped they’d return. 

Now Snake was mixing drinks as guitars were being tuned and Eva’s- crunchy- bass riffed. He waved at the two, then went back to work. They had a different set again, Eva sang more, her voice a low murmur over the fuzzy guitar and deep basslines. It was a different style than when Ocelot sang, more dreamy, surreal, in a way. The song faded out and Eva and Ocelot shared a look with each other.

“Three-two-one-” 

Eva had a range, an incredible range when she wanted it. This track was so unalike from anything they had played tonight. Snake found himself watching Ocelot pace back and forth, powerchords slipping off his fingers and nodding in time to the recorded drum kit. Ocelot looked up and made eye contact, his face blank and then- a grin. For a second Snake knew what Ocelot had been talking about- that pure energy. The look in his eyes was somewhere between prideful and nervous, but the smirk indicated the first was overwhelmingly ready to be apart of his play style. Snake grinned back and gazed as the red and purple lights flashed off his icy white guitar, the one gilded with mother of pearl. In perfect chaos, his hand spun up and down the neck of the instrument, solo fast and hypnotizing and-

“Hey!” Snake blinked, a hand snapping in his face, “Am I getting the margarita or not?”

“Sorry.” he looked down, his rag had dropped on the floor, hand still making the movements to wipe down the glass. He ducked under the counter and retrieved the rag, cheeks hot as he made the drink. 

“Who even are these people?” 

He frowned, “The Shagohod.” 

“What the hell kinda name is that?”

He ignored the man and went on to the next group, finding his eyes wandering back up to the platform in between drinks. Cymbals crashed and suddenly Eva was panting and thanking them for coming tonight. Snake set down his water and pushed through to the front.

“That was amazing!”

Eva and Ocelot both looked up at the same time, startled by his sudden excited outburst. Snake had his hands in his hair, smile on his face. Eva rushed over and hugged Snake, who was taken aback, but easily returned the embrace. She held out an arm and shook her hand, convincing Ocelot to join them with a begrudging  _ humpf _ . “Eva you have an great voice, and Ocelot-” the hug rescinded, but Snake’s hand was still on his shoulder, “Again, with the solos.”

“I wasn’t sure we’d hold out,” Eva explained, “We’ve been playing all week.”

“This was our best one, though.” Ocelot said.

“Tired, huh?” Snake asked, receiving a hyperbolized sigh and nod from Eva and a shrug from Ocelot. “Do you want a drink?”

“Is it free?” She asked.

Snake laughed, “Yeah, for you guys.”

He led them over to the bar and Eva spun onto the seat, holding on as she twirled around. Ocelot laughed a little, his aggressive posture wearing down to something more relaxed. “So,” Eva said as the stool slowed to a halt, drooping over the black counter, “This is a date, right?”

“If you want it to be.”

“Ooh! Ocelot, I just got asked out by a cute guy, jealous, right?”

“No.” he said a little too quickly. 

She pushed his shoulder, “He’s just sour.”

Snake really didn’t mind, Ocelot was tired, after all. “Nothing with citrus then?”

“Surprise us.” she said with a mystical wave of her hands. 

They talked, about music, about the bar, drinks, as time passed, and the two grew more buzzed, Eva asked if Snake knew any instruments. “My brother had a guitar. I played a lot as a kid, but this hand doesn’t really work that way anymore.” He gestured to the prosthetic, lifting a finger and curling it back in, but unable to move from side to side. 

“You could play leftie.” Ocelot perked up, “You could strum with that hand, play with the other.”

Snake thought a moment, “I’m not that talented.”

“No- no!” Ocelot slapped his hand on the counter, his eyes trying to focus on Snake, “No, Snake, I’m a leftie, but I played with my right hand ‘cause the electric guitar we had was right hand.” He nodded to himself, “You’d learn-”

“Like riding a bike.” Eva said.

“Like riding a damn bike, you want to play?”

Snake looked around, there were other bartenders seeing other customers and if he wanted to, he could go. “I’m still working, Ocelot.”

“ _ Snake _ .”

Another flash to his coworkers. “Alright.”

Ocelot’s shit eating smile returned after a gulp of his third beer, and Snake felt a bit lighter. Eva spun on her seat to face the woman who was sitting next to her and Ocelot jumped up onto the stage. He picked his guitar up from the stand and loosened the strap, pulling it over Snake’s head. It wasn’t that hard, he was a bit shorter than Ocelot, but his hand still ran over his shoulder when he pulled away. Snake placed his hand over the strings, the other one around the neck of the guitar.

“What do you remember?” Ocelot asked, a little less than a foot away. 

“Not much.” Snake looked up.

“Okay, here,” he watched as his fingers were moved over the right spots and applied pressure when tapped on the knuckle. Ocelot’s hands as light as a feather over Snake’s in a way that seemed too kind to be true. “Strum.” he did as he was told. A C chord. He remembered that. It was strange this way, but he let his hand be moved to form a G, than an A minor, D. Ocelot stepped back, pleased in his handiwork. “Now you know almost every song in existence.” 

“That’s a lot of songs.”

He nodded, matter of factly, Ocelot’s ice blue eyes more noticeable in such close proximity. Up on the stage, the bar seemed far away, quieter, somehow. He couldn’t tell if it was still packed full of people or dead empty, with just the heating unit banging up noise. 

Snake bit his lip, “I have to-” he nodded at the bar, “I’m still on shift-”

“Oh, yeah, no,” Ocelot moved away and Snake took off the guitar, handing it to him, his chest feeling strangely tight. As he resumed his place, he noticed Eva wasn’t in her seat, and neither was the woman by her. Instead, the two stools were empty, and Ocelot was stuck at the end, finishing off his drink and ordering another one from someone other than Snake. Another half hour passed and the bar was empty, save Ocelot sleeping with his mouth open over the counter.

“Hey, wake up.” Snake nudged him. Ocelot didn’t budge. “Ocelot-  _ Adam _ .”

“Huh?” he mumbled, still dreaming.

“I’ve got to close up, do you need an Uber?” he asked, shaking him lightly again, to no avail. Ocelot was out, and didn’t awake while Snake took his phone from his front pocket in hopes that he had a sibling or parent who could pick him up. But it was password protected and it was almost one in the morning. Eva had left an hour ago without warning anybody, save for the small text that popped up on Ocelot’s phone- who had obviously not read it. Snake groaned. “Where do you live? I’ll drive you, okay?”

“Mhnm.”

“That’s not an address.”

After another year of silence, Snake grabbed his jacket from under the counter and jostled Ocelot’s shoulder one last time. “Okay, at least stand up for me.” he said, wrapping an arm underneath one of his shoulders and lifting up, Ocelot giving in and moving his legs just enough to not be a nuisance. Out to his car and into Snake’s passenger seat he went; windows down for safety and a light foot over the gas had brought Snake home. He led Ocelot up the stairs to his apartment, through the door. Snake thought for a moment. There wasn’t much room, so he could just let Ocelot have the couch, and it’s not like he needed somewhere comfortable in his condition. But something made him feel wrong about taking the bed, he looked at the couch once more before deciding, dragging his guest through the hallway at laying him down on the bed, on his side.

He looked nice, asleep- peaceful, like there was nothing sad or aggravating to sing about in the whole world. Carefully, he untied the laces on his leather boots and set them beside the bed, then pulled Ocelot’s jean jacket- absolutely dripping in patches- off him with considerable difficulty, and set that over the bedpost. With a huff of finality, Snake pulled the covers over him and stepped back, resigned to take the couch. But before he could leave, a freezing hand had shot out through the comforter and grabbed his wrist, Ocelot’s eyes suddenly open, “Stay.”

Snake wrapped his other hand around Ocelot’s, “It’s fine.” he said, then added, “You’ll throw up on me.”

“No, Snake.” Ocelot did not look entirely lucid, but his speech seemed coherent enough. He tugged on Snake’s hand and pressed the palm against his face. “Stay, I want you.” He looked over at the space next to Ocelot, then back to the nearly stranger tucked into his bed. “I want you to stay.”

He stood there, well aware of the heat radiating off his face, well aware of the shape of Ocelot's cheek and how calloused his fingers were from his guitar and how fast his heart was racing as his hand was brought from his cheek to his lips. It was almost funny, the position he was in. It was the same kind of incredible gentleness that made him light headed when Ocelot had tried to get him to play guitar. Snake caved in and repeated himself, “Alright”. And that was it. He climbed in beside him and laid on his back, looking over at Ocelot, cocooned into his blankets. It was cute, if he was honest. Idyly, he wondered if Ocelot would be embarrassed by this if he was sober. Did it matter? He probably wouldn’t remember trying to teach Snake guitar again, or touching his hands with such gingerness Snake believed he might be made out of porcelain. It was fine, he was fine, and Ocelot was dead asleep. “Goodnight.” he said into the air. 

…

Ocelot didn’t wake all at once. He smelled something in his dream, and then could hear something crash a ways away. After rolling over onto his chest, he opened his eyes. The only thing he could process besides a splitting headache was that this sheet had significantly less of a thread count that his. Ocelot bolted up and looked out, eyes wide and fumbled for the pocket knife in his coat that wasn’t on him anymore. “Holy shit.” he breathed, looking over at the space next to him, still warm like someone had slept there. There was nothing on the walls save for a map poster over the short dresser that was topped with a backpack and a few rolls of film. Ocelot slid out of the covers and snuck over to the dresser to unroll the film and squint at it. He could see the vague shape of a car- the film rolled farther down- there was a woman, and a burly sort of guy, a little bit like-

He whipped his head around so hard his neck made a cracking noise. The sound in the kitchen, the smell now discernible:  _ pancakes _ , the person out there had to be-

There was a shirt and pair of pants he hadn’t seen strewn across the floor blocked by the other side of the bed. Ocelot grabbed his jacket off the bed post and retrieved his knife, snapped it open, and then peered out the slightly open door into the apartment living room and kitchen. Someone was whistling a tune he recognized as his own- well, Eva’s, technically- and now he could smell bacon and- Ocelot looked down at the knife and then tossed it behind him before creeping into the room.

“You!” he said, accusatory. Snake turned around, his slippers squeaking, frying pan still on the stove. He wasn’t wearing his eyepatch, Ocelot noticed, or his shirt, or his pants. Just boxer shorts and a pair of pink house slippers.

“Huh?”

“You-”

“Oh, good morning, Ocelot.” he turned back to the stove and pushed around some bacon with a wooden spatula. 

“Good morning, Snake.” he said, stepping a little farther into the room, “You- Did we-” he said, “ _ do  _ anything?” 

Snake turned off the stove and flipped the bacon off onto a plate, setting it on the island with the pancakes and eggs, then walking around and sitting on the tall chair behind a plate and fork. “You’re wearing clothing.”

Ocelot looked back down, “I am.”

“And you have a headache.”

He remembered the headache.

“You got shitfaced and wouldn’t tell me your address.” he explained. That did make sense.

“What about Eva?”

Snake made a sound as he chewed on a pancake. He swallowed it and then said, “She was preoccupied.” He nodded to the seat next to him, “Sit.”

Ocelot cautiously took his offer and forked a pancake onto his plate. It was mediocre, if anything, and the bacon and eggs were not nearly distracting enough stop him from freezing up at the fact that Snake was, more or less, naked. He was, as well, more or less built like a goddamn brick wall, too. Like Ocelot could probably punch him in the solar plexus and he wouldn’t even flinch. “You left your truck back at the bar and I was hoping to clean up this morning. After breakfast I can drive you over.”

“Yeah, okay,” he said, trying to sound disinterested. 

“The Boss isn’t coming back until Sunday, though, so we don’t have to worry about the place looking flawless.” he went on. “But I have class at twelve and it’s almost nine, so we should be quick about it.”

Ocelot stopped, “You have class? Aren’t you like, what, thirty?”

He nodded, “Yeah, I’m working on getting a teaching degree.”

“A teacher?”

“Kindergarten, hopefully.”

He did a double take. So Snake ‘Eyepatch’ aka ‘High-tech prosthetic’ aka ‘WWE Superstar’ was going to teach kindergarteners? Actually, he thought, that’s kinda cute. Ocelot blushed.

“You’re a little intimidating for kindergarten, though,” he said, and then instantly regretted. Snake looked almost sad, like Ocelot had just kicked him in the face. Maybe he had, “I mean- you just- are really- strong and- oh, my God,”

Snake waved him off, “It’s fine. It’s just always been- it’s always been kids. When I got discharged I realized that fighting in wars was hurting the kind of people- children- who I thought I was protecting.” After a pause, he started again, more subdued, “Even now, at the bar, it’s hard not to wonder about some of these people’s children. Some will show me all their photos and tell me how good their kid is at spelling or drawing, some of them- I just feel bad for.” Ocelot watched him prod a piece of bacon, “But teaching- I can do something there.” he said with a small smile, “Yeah, so teaching. I want to teach. Any grades fine, but I’m hoping kindergarten.” he looked up and Ocelot realized he was smiling too. “Alright, well, let’s get going. Drink some water and I’ll be back.”

Snake got up and slid his plate into the sink before leaving to his room. Ocelot was astounded. That was, firstly, the most he had heard Snake say in one go, and such a random outbreak of emotion, especially this early in the morning. And discharged? What did he do? Or, more likely, what was done to him? That had to be where he lost the arm and eye- he was probably released afterwards with an apology. And now he was serving drinks, getting four hours of sleep, and then going to college so he could teach kids. Eva was right, Ocelot had got it bad. Real bad. The man was a domestic fairy tale. 

Snake emerged fully clothed and wearing boots. He threw Ocelot his jacket and shoes and tried to slip them on as he hobbled out the door.

The trees were stark bare, with only a few clad in green, some frost tipped, but nothing more than ice. They passed a few people on the street, but the morning was too cold for anything other than sitting or being blasted by a car’s heater. Ocelot couldn’t remember how far the bar was, he couldn’t even recognize the streets they were on. Snake must have lived pretty far from the bar, he realized as they turned onto the freeway. Though, if the traffic was always like this, it wasn’t much of a commute, even if Snake didn’t listen to music on the way.

“Do you want to play something?” he asked. He must have felt Ocelot looking at him.

“Oh, do you?”

He shrugged, his knit sweater a soft blue- “Did you knit that?” Ocelot asked. Snake snorted.

“I wish. No, uh, a co-worker.” He said.

“A girl?” Ocelot asked incredulously.

Snake stammered, “Yeah.”

He looked over to see Snake working through something. Ocelot felt frustrated again, he wanted to apologize. He wanted to say sorry and make Snake smile again, like how Eva could say any kind of bull shit she wanted and he’d smirk. The car was filled with the sun as it rose higher in the sky and Ocelot found himself mesmerized with the man driving him to a bar he passed out in. Snake had a lovely jaw and eye and a scar over his lips and an outdated haircut that managed to be endearing and he was staring again.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, my head just hurts.”

Snake cursed, “I had some aspirin at home- but, under the counter, at the bar, when we get there.” 

“I’ll survive.”

“Good,” he said, “There’s mints in the jockey box if you want to pretend. And your breath smells terrible.”

Ocelot sat up, suddenly self conscious, and retrieved a pack of powdery mints. He ate one and sat back down, just as Snake pulled into the parking lot of the bar.

Inside during daytime felt like a whole other world. He had only visited at night, or just around evening, and the soft morning light over the counters and wood floors made it look non threatening, like you couldn’t die from drinking everything the place had. Snake was folding up the synth Eva had used and Ocelot was just standing behind him, his guitar in its case, unzipped. 

“Thank you.”

Snake stood up, synth under his arm. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Still, thanks.”

He smiled, making Ocelot feel a little better, “So, do you have any more gigs this week?”

“No, not for awhile, we’re working on something big right now.” he said as he followed Snake out to his pickup. They set their weight in the back and re-entered the building. 

“You can’t come back to your favorite bar?” he asked. 

Ocelot laughed, “It’s my mom’s place, she’ll probably make me.”

Snake blinked, “Your mom’s?”

“Yeah, you must know her then.”

“The Boss- is your mom?” He said looking over Ocelot’s face like he had never seen him before, “God, I can see it.” Snake held the door open for him as he hefted a giant box of sound equipment over to the truck. Hands brushing over his, Snake took the pile from him and slid it to the back of the bed, then clapped off the dust. “That’s everything.”

“Hey, do you, uh,” Ocelot said as Snake locked the doors, “Do you want to get lunch? There’s still an hour before your class- and I’ll pay.” Snake shut the back closed and leaned against it, thick arms crossed over each other and that same smile Ocelot had hoped for on his face.

He fished his phone out of his pocket at the request and checked the time, “Sure, where?”

Ocelot looked down the street, “There’s a pho place nearby, I think.”

Just as he had put his phone away, it buzzed. Snake held it up and squinted, “Oh, shit, maybe another time, I have to run back home to get something for class.”

“Oh, yeah, no- it’s- I’ll see you later?” he asked.

Snake nodded, “Yeah, sorry,”

“No, it’s fine. Good luck at- school.”

“Thanks.”

“Bye, Snake.”

“Bye, sorry again.”

Ocelot got into the front seat and waited for the sound of Snake speeding off the way they had came. He slammed his fists down on the steering wheel and yelled. “Shit!” and then again, “Shit!” he could have got his number! He could have got his number the first day he met him too, and now Ocelot was swimming in a pool of his mistakes. He could write a song. Or he could leave Snake alone and forget he ever had a crush on the man. He needed to talk to Eva.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> timeline thing if its confusing: snake goes into military straight out of high school, gets honorably discharged at like 26, and started to get a bachelors for teaching, he's 30 and this was the last year. Sorry if it was weird or smthn......

If Snake had felt bad about not getting Ocelot’s number the first time, he was downright miserable now. It had been three weeks of radio silence, no performances at the bar, no calls from Eva, no news of what they had been working on. It gave him an odd sense of discomfort. He replayed the events of the last time he and Ocelot had been together and wondered if he was rude to have turned down his offer. But then again, he was passing his child development class with flying colors, thanks to the project final he retrieved from his apartment. Still, he couldn’t get his mind off of the car ride to the bar, or the night before when Ocelot had kissed his hand. Snake took someone’s order, mindlessly filling glasses and washing them out, the image he awoke to of Ocelot surrounded in his blankets with his blonde hair messy and mouth slightly parted. He wished he could just forget. He wished he could just call Eva and ask the two out for dinner one night, or something. 

Up on the corkboard, behind the counter, was their band’s poster. The Shagohod, what an intimidating name. He wondered if Ocelot spoke Russian too, then, if his band name was. The paper was littered in times and places, all of which had passed.

“Excuse me, sir?” a voice came from behind him, he looked over to meet Eva face to face. 

“Eva!” He said, allowing himself to be pulled in a hug from over the bar. It was uncomfortable, but when she let go he felt okay, good. Ocelot was sitting next to her. “Hey.” he said, barely containing a smile.

“Hey, Ocelot.” Snake said back. Eva gagged.

“Snake, can I get a sidecar? And a mint julep for the man.” 

He nodded, “Yeah, of course, you came back.”

“What, like we wouldn’t? We had to visit our ungodly handsome bartender-ex-military-kindergarten-teacher-to-be friend, you know? What if I get a kid and I don’t know what school to put him through?” She explained, wagging a finger at Snake.

He looked over to Ocelot, “Told her everything?”

Ocelot couldn’t meet him in the eyes, his face was more than a little pink. It didn’t help his jacket was already bright red. “Uh, yeah.”

Snake laughed, “Did you tell her about what happened the night before?”

Ocelot looked up, “What.” he said, not a question. “What-”

He leaned over the bar, like he was telling a secret to Eva, “Yeah, before he went to sleep he grabbed my hand and kissed it.”

Eva opened her mouth, “A princess!”

He nodded yes. “And then he asked to marry me.” 

Eva laughed as Ocelot put his face in his hands, “Can I have my drink now?”

“But I said I didn’t want to settle down.”

She held onto Snake’s arm as he told the story, resting her head on his bicep. “I knew you wouldn’t.”

“Really?” Ocelot groaned.

“Nah,”

Snake went back to their drinks as Ocelot stared daggers at his head. They fell back into the same easy conversations they had had before, Snake relishing in the normality of it all. The two had always had a weird relationship, he thought, they had always felt like old friends. It wasn’t hard to get Eva’s humor, and it was a little more than fun to fluster Ocelot (“You look a little like white-blonde James Dean in that jacket” “Oh- really?”). Whatever this was, it was good. Eva asked about his major, about graduation, Snake asked about their band, how they met.

“We have our first big show next month.” Ocelot said, “At the amphitheater. You should come.”

Snake thought a moment, “May? I don’t know my schedule, but you could text me the details when it gets closer.” he said, Eva grinning at Ocelot. Snake unlocked and handed over his phone, Ocelot doing the same, and finally, Snake had his number. “I’d love to see more of you guys.”

“I’m sure you would.” Eva mumbled as she finished her drink, looking at her own phone, “Aw, shit, my ride’s here. I’ll see you around. And Snake, let’s get lunch sometime.”

He agreed as Ocelot moved to get up, only to be pushed down by Eva, “Not you, you wouldn’t want to come.” She smiled sweetly, “Bye!”

“Bye, Eva.” Snake waved. Ocelot slowly turned back to face Snake. 

“It’s pretty slow tonight, huh.” he noted, Snake already moving around the side of the bar. “Not a lot of people.” he sat on the stool next to Ocelot. In his mind, there was no plan, nothing, but he felt himself lean into his presence and looked up as Ocelot blathered. “Did I ever thank you?”

“You did.”

“Well, thanks again.” He said, “It was really sweet- You’re really- I mean it was- I- thank you,”

“Ocelot,” Snake said, their knees almost touching, his chest tight again. “Can I kiss you?”

“Oh,” he looked like he was glued to his seat, “Yes, definitely.” 

Snake closed the gap between them and kissed him, Ocelot practically melting into him. He could feel his heart beating up his throat as Ocelot placed his hand on Snake’s cheek, his thumb making small circles. If he died today, Snake thought, it’d be okay. Ocelot’s lips were chapped and rough, but his breath was hot and clean. 

He pulled away, watching Ocelot’s eyes- an almost star struck look on his face. “Can you do that again?”

Snake laughed, “Only if my tickets are free.” he said, kissing the corner of Ocelot’s lips.

“God, Snake, they’ll always be free if you keep doing that,” he whispered as Snake dropped to his neck. Ocelot pulled on Snake’s collar and brought him back to his lips. He felt satisfied, as if he had arranged for this to happen and saw it through. But there was no organization, and he wasn’t sure what time it could possibly be for them to be alone on this side of the bar. It didn’t matter, though, he knew why he had kept thinking about Ocelot and the clean up at the bar. He was sure he knew why Ocelot had stared at him in the car, and why he continued to be lost in his mistakes. 

Ocelot laughed, leaning back, “Your moustache is scratching me.”

Snake rubbed his upper lip, a little self conscious, “Do you not like it?’

“No, it’s great, I love it.” He said, then laughed a little, “It’s great.”

 

…

The amphitheater was not huge, but it wasn’t small either. Snake looked up at the high columns surrounding the seats and stage as he walked down the steps to the front. He had graduated, and had secured a job as a teacher’s assistant, and had gone on a real date with Ocelot. In some ways, he wished he could have gone to college right out of high school, but in another, secret way, he was glad he had to take the bartending job. 

People were sitting down as Snake slipped past them into the backstage. There was a few other bands preparing, but The Shagohod was the opening act. Snake was proud for them. Eva yelled when she saw him, and hugged him, the same as always. “Thank you so much for coming, Snake.” she smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Of course, its no problem.” he said before walking over to Ocelot.

He was bent over his guitar in his lap, one leg propped up on a stool. “Snake!” He said as he turned to see him, grin as wide as the sun. Ocelot set his guitar in its stand and kissed Snake gently on the lips. He put his backpack down by their things and watched as Ocelot tuned the guitar by ear.

“T minus five, guys,” a stranger in black loaded in microphones said.

Eva and Ocelot shared a look before she took a deep breath and grabbed her bass. She nodded at him. 

Ocelot, despite being taller than him, seemed small in the moment. He wasn’t shaking, but looked close to it, contrary to his entire persona. Snake stood in front of him and pinned close the breast pocket on his jean jacket. “I like this patch.” he said, outlining the one with their band name in red cursive. 

“Do you want one?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t have anything to put it on.” He said.

“Still, I’ll get you one.” he looked over to where Eva was standing, then back to Snake. In a second, he pulled Snake to him by his shirt collar and kissed him hard before saying, “Wish me luck?”

Snake kissed him back on the forehead, a small peck, and smiled, “You’ll do great, you've always done great.”

Ocelot blushed, and joined Eva by the side of the stage. Lights began to flash around them and Snake watched as their silhouettes stepped forward, a kind of excitement swelling up in Snake. Purple and red swathed the two, just like at the bar, but three-hundred degrees more intense. He remembered how Ocelot’s guitar flashed under the lights, how he smiled like he ruled the world, and Snake knew for certain that they would do spectacular. He received a small glance and glimpse of white teeth from ocelot. As the music swelled and Eva’s voice rose, he leaned against a wall, his heart hurting a little as he dealt with himself and the fact that he was infinitely happy they had met. 

 

…

This was the same song that Snake had once complimented him on, the one with the improvised solo that he later tried to write down, but to no avail. It had to be right- but not calculated- the same kind of electricity couldn’t be done twice. No, he had to feel it, as tacky as it sounded, he had to be in this right kind of zone. Even if he had been nervous here, looking out at the crowd, it ended as soon as he looked back to Snake with a grin on his face. Ocelot laughed and walked up to the microphone, with all the days he had spent playing and practicing, he had found where that energy came from for him. Snake. It was him, the bartender, the kindergarten teacher, Snake’s smile and laugh gave him what he needed to play. And he was infinitely happy they had met.


End file.
